


Salon

by TheSungHero



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Hair touching, Hairdessing, M/M, Pining, Possible Sexy Hair Fantasies, Sherlock's scalp being sensitive, hairdresser au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSungHero/pseuds/TheSungHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic written for a friend on Tumblr. She came up with the Hairdressing Au so I had to give it a shot. Basically, it's Sherlock finding a new hairdresser and maybe, perhaps-ish becoming obsessed with his hands. And maybe falling in love. Who knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salon

Sherlock walked into the salon, running hands through his hair. It had gotten exceptionally long during a case, and at this point, he was desperate. He’d done some research, and according to many sources, John Watson was one of the best hairdressers in London. He decided to finally give him a chance, because honestly, his hair was getting on his nerves. He made his way up to the reception desk.  
“I have an appointment with John Watson at 3.” he told the woman who smiled and nodded.  
“Come this way, Mister Holmes. He’ll be with you in just a moment. He’s taking care of another client right now. Can I get you anything? Water, tea?” she asked.  
“No thank you. I’ll be fine to wait here.” he said and crossed his legs, taking a seat in the main room, watching as several stylists worked on men and women alike. None of them worthy to touch his head. Sherlock looked down impatiently, checking his watch, in time to hear footsteps reach him.  
“You must be Sherlock.” a sonorous voice rang, causing Sherlock’s head to snap up, shocked by the man’s appearance. He didn’t /look/ like a hairdresser. His own hair was cropped short on the sides and slightly longer on the top. It was neat, sure, but there was nothing special about it. His hands, however, told a different story. Obviously skilled. He nodded.  
“Yes, I am.”  
“Follow me, then.” he said, “If you will. I’d like to shampoo first.” he said.  
Sherlock followed closely behind, looking at other stylists as he passed. He was taken to a separate room entirely. It must be John’s studio. 

“I have my own corner. It’s kind of nice sometimes.” he admitted. “Take a seat by the sink, will you?” John said, pointing to the black leather chair.  
Sherlock complied and took a seat, waiting. John returned with a few towels, wrapping one behind Sherlock’s neck and pinning it with a hair clip.  
“Don’t want to ruin your smart shirt.” he explained, “Tilt your head back?”

Sherlock did so, his hair falling into the black porcelain behind him.  
“Mm... It’s been a while hasn’t it?”  
“Yes. A few too long. I was busy, and my hairdresser moved to Cardiff.”  
“A shame. Your hair needs constant maintenance to keep it looking it’s best.”  
“I agree.”  
“You do take care of it, no heat exposure, and it is conditioned well...” 

The water turned on and John tested it on his hand.  
“Tell me, is the temp okay?”  
“Fine. It’s nice.”  
“Right then. So... busy, with what?” 

John rinsed Sherlock’s hair to begin, carefully framing his forehead and ears, cupping around so that no unnecessary splashing would occur. It was a professional trait that few had.  
“I work for Scotland yard.”  
“Do you now? That’s impressive... Were you on a case?”  
“Yes. It lasted a bit longer than expected.” Sherlock huffed.  
John chuckled and once Sherlock’s hair was thoroughly wet, he squirted shampoo in his hands, lathering it between his fingers before beginning to wash Sherlock’s hair, his fingers massaging and scratching his scalp with incredible skill.  
“Oh...”  
“Problem? I can be more gentle, sorry.”  
“N-no. Not at all. You can be as rough as you’d like. It’s... very pleasant.”

John paused and grinned, continuing, and brushing his fingers through the dark, now jet black follicles.  
Sherlock actually closed his eyes, enjoying it immensely, his scalp was sensitive, and he quite loved having it massaged. And John... Was an expert. He exhaled slowly, his whole scalp tingling.  
John moved to rinse out his hair, removing his hands, and Sherlock nearly protested, but they were back soon with mint scented conditioner, fingers gently slipping through the curls and making sure that there were no knots. Which, there were very few. 

"So, what would you like today, Mister Holmes?"  
"...Pardon?"  
"What would you like me to do with your hair?"  
"Ah... Nothing special. Just a trim. And perhaps getting back my layers."  
"Not a problem."  
John rinsed out the creme and combed through Sherlock's hands with his fingers, humming to himself and turning off the water. He squirted one last product into his hair, a smoother, to take care of humidity as he cut it. He gently squeezed out excess water and wrapped the towel around Sherlock's head.  
"Sit up whenever you're ready and I'll get a smock on you."  
"Alright." Sherlock said, his voice distant, sad that the wash was over. He sat in the stylist chair, John immediately behind him, snapping a smock around his neck, brushing his nape gently to make sure it wasn't too tight.

John walked around Sherlock, taking off the towel and draping it around Sherlock's neck, catching dripping that may have occurred. He hummed and smiled at the man. He grabbed a sanitized comb and walked to Sherlock's side.  
"Bend your head forward for me?" he asked  
Sherlock complied and John combed through the man's long hair, seeing how long it was an analyzing where he needed to trim.  
"How long have you been doing this?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Haircutting."  
"Ah, let's see... when I went out of the military, 10 years ago, I needed a hobby, and I turned my hobby into a profession."  
"Yes. I can see that."

John chuckled and tipped Sherlock's chin back up. "I'm going to get my shears now." he said with a grin. "Don't be nervous." he laughed.  
Sherlock nodded and waited, watching John retrieve with custom scissors.  
"Your hair is curly, so we use textured shears."  
"Yes. Straight edge just makes split ends for me."  
"I'm going to spin you around now."  
"What?"  
"It's going to be a surprise. Do you trust me?"  
"I don't know."  
"C'mon, Sherlock. I won't make you bald, promise."  
"Fine..."

John grinned and spun Sherlock around, away from the mirror and ran his hands through the slick curls. Sherlock shivered and John grinned. He nodded and combed a section of Sherlock's hair, measuring with his fingers and snipping expertly. "One down." he teased. After a basic trim, he began to grab sections, pulling them up, gently, and trimming perfectly even layers. He ran his hands through the rapidly drying curls, trying to see where they would fall. He hummed to himself.  
"You do have lovely hair."  
"Thank you..."  
"I think I'm going to wet it again, and then style it. I want fresh curls."  
"Whatever you think is best."

Sherlock honestly would have said anything to have John's hands in his hair. He relaxed into the touches, feeling airy and light, as John spritzed his hair with a water bottle. John grabbed a few products, mixing them together in his hands and then brushing his hands through the curls, forming them with his fingers and scrunching them gently between his fingers. He sculpted nearly his entire head, then taking a diffuser for the hairdryer and gently cupping the curls, drying them. He applied one last product, swiping his hands through Sherlock's curls to make them look more natural and then smiled at his work.  
"Mmm. Yes. I think that's good." he said. "Do you trust me?" he asked, waiting for a response.  
"I believe I do." Sherlock replied, surprising himself. 

John spun the chair a bit, showing him his reflection.  
Sherlock blinked in surprise. It was perfect. He couldn't have done it better himself. All of it... was /perfect/. John's hands, his skill, his voice, him. He brushed a hand over one curl, impressed.  
"It's... wonderful. Thank you."  
"Of course." John chuckled.  
"You don't have any plans of moving to Cardiff anytime soon?"  
"None whatsoever."  
"Lovely."

John smiled and unbuttoned the smock, hand bracing the nape of Sherlock's neck. He disposed of the smock and towel, then sweeping up the hair on the floor before letting Sherlock down from the chair. He brushed off a stray hair and curled on more strand around his finger, close to Sherlock and then stepping back.  
"That'll do it, I think."  
"Yes."  
"You can head to reception to pay, and set up your next appointment if you'd like. I suggest 2 months to keep it healthy."  
"One."  
"Pardon?"  
"One month. I'm particular about my hair. I want it always looking it's best."  
"I think I have an availability."  
"Wonderful."  
"You have a good day Mister Holmes..."  
"Sherlock."  
"Sherlock. Well, have a nice day Sherlock."

Sherlock walked in a daze to the reception counter.  
"Looking nice Mister Holmes."  
"Thank you."  
"I imagine you'd like to set up an appointment?"  
"Yes. Next month."  
"That's the 16th, is that alright."  
"Yes, anything."  
"Alright, swipe your card and sign here, and if you'd like to leave John a tip, just write down the amount."  
"What's the standard?"  
"Generally 15-20."  
"Thanks. Have a good afternoon."  
"And you as well Mister Holmes."

The receptionist looked down at the paper and gasped.  
"John!"  
"Yeah, Molly, what is it?"  
"Some bloke just left you a fifty note tip."


End file.
